


A Tightly Wrapped "Case"

by Skyline (skybs)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-12-16
Updated: 1998-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skybs/pseuds/Skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim hurts... and Blair comforts ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tightly Wrapped "Case"

**Author's Note:**

> McLara's Notes: Creating this little piece was fun 'cause my soulmate Skyline (the other half of my brain) did most of the writing ;-) I miss you gupcake.  
> Skyline's Notes: I had a blast writing this with my dear friend McLara! Miss you too, honey! And thanks for your friendship!
> 
> Thanks to Gabrielle for her wonderful beta!

A Tightly Wrapped "Case"  
by McLara & Skyline

Simon growled as he stormed into the hospital waiting room. Once again, he'd gotten the call that one member of his best team had been injured during a case. What a surprise! What's wrong with them? And why the hell did they always call *him*? What had he done to deserve this punishment?

He looked around the room and saw an ash-covered Blair sitting on one of the hard, plastic chairs, his head and shoulders drooping like a beaten little puppy. Stopping just in front of the younger man, Banks eyed him with his famous 'what have you done now' frown.

Shyly, Blair peeked through his hair into Simon's resigned face, shrinking even further into his chair as he tried to disappear.

Rolling his eyes, Simon sighed. "Okay, Sandburg, what happened *this* time?"

"Uhm... er...," Blair stuttered, "I was just trying to help."

//As always,// Simon added in his mind, but didn't say it out loud. There was no need to do so, it *was* always the same. "And?"

"We... uhm... Jim wanted to question this suspect... and I wanted to come along... uhm... but Jim didn't want me to... and I went anyway... and..."

Raising an eyebrow, the Captain just stared at Sandburg as if to say 'Just get to the point'.

"Suddenly, there was a fire... it was all around me... and I couldn't see anything... and Jim tried to get to me... Oh, Simon it's all my fault! He burned his hands! I shouldn't have left the car... all my fault," Blair's voice broke on a sob, looking like a small child who had just lost his parents.

Opening his mouth to say something, Simon was suddenly interrupted when an elderly man with gray hair, obviously a doctor, approached them. "Are you gentlemen here for Detective Ellison?" the man asked.

"Yes. I'm Captain Simon Banks and this," pointing towards the guilt-stricken anthropologist, "is Det. Ellison's partner, Blair Sandburg."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Smithers," he said, shaking Banks' hand. "Well, Det. Ellison has burns on both hands and part of his forearms, all first or second degree. It's not life threatening," the doctor added with a twinkle in his eyes as he observed Sandburg's crouched form on the chair, "but it'll hurt like hell for awhile. And of course, Det. Ellison won't be able to do much with his injured hands, I'm afraid."

"I'll take care of him! That's absolutely no problem, Doctor. Really!"

"However, the Detective insisted on going home as soon as possible against my better judgment."

"Will there be any permanent damage?" Blair asked in a small voice, fearing the worst.

"No, I don't think so. The burns should heal within two weeks, I'd say," answered Dr. Smithers, smiling at both men.

At that very moment, a blank-looking Sentinel, just as dirty as his Guide, came out of the examining room. Both his hands and forearms were covered with thick layers of surgical cotton, looking a little bit like a boxer right before his biggest fight. Matching the image, Jim's jaw twitched frantically. He seemed to be ready for the full 15 rounds.

Standing up, Blair swallowed hard and instinctively took cover behind the big Captain. If Sentinel-looks could kill, he'd probably be dead within mere seconds. He didn't know what was better---laughing or crying; being dead now or later when Jim could use his hands again and strangle him *very* slowly. He just prayed he didn't have to suffer long---maybe it was time to give Simon his last will. However, Jim just stared blankly in front of him, not saying a single word.

Receiving the doctor's instructions and the order to come to the hospital every day to change the bandages, Jim was finally able to leave the hated environment. Smells and sounds there where nagging at his nerves even more since he tried get the throbbing pain under control.

During the drive home, not a single word left the older man's mouth. Blair didn't know if this was a good or a bad sign---probably the latter. Yes, definitely the latter. Again, he asked himself how he could survive, sharing the same place, for the next days with a wounded and dangerous Sentinel.

 

* * * * *

Jim sat at the kitchen table, staring at his breakfast. How was he supposed to eat with this fabric wrapped around his hands? And if this weren't enough, he hadn't been able to sleep much because his hands had hurt like a bitch. Dialing down hadn't much helped, either. And of course, the attempt to shower without help failed miserably. However, who needed help? Not him! Never!

Before he could say or do anything, his hyperactive partner bounced to his side, dropping down on the chair next to Jim's with a stunning smile.

"Good morning, Jim, sleep well?"

"Hmm," was the only response he got.

//Uh, that doesn't sound good... maybe the breakfast will cheer him up a little.// Blair mused and grabbed the fork in order to feed his Sentinel. Filling the fork, he brought it to Jim's mouth, which didn't open. The older man just glanced at his friend.

"I can do it myself!" he growled and tried to grab the fork from Blair's fingers.

Backing away, the young man said in a soothing tone, "Hey Jim, I know it's my fault you got hurt and I'm really sorry, but... I just wanted to help!"

"Don't you always?" The moment the words left Jim's mouth, he regretted them, but he definitely wasn't in the mood to apologize to his friend---why should he suffer alone?

"Whatever you say, big guy." Hurt, Blair sat back with folded arms, trying to enjoy the beginning food-battle, which quickly turned into a massacre.

First problem; how to hold a fork with tightly bandaged and aching hands---which was kind of hard to do since his fingers were useless. He ended up holding the fork in his fist loosely, trying to avoid too much hurtful pressure.

Second problem; how to raise the fork to his mouth with that aching hand and still keep the food on it---which was not easy as he had thought it would be. Gravity and the idea that the food didn't want to be eaten made it difficult.

Of course, Blair watching him, trying not to smirk, didn't help either. In fact, it was *very* distracting. Half an hour and 13 times later, he threw the offending instrument on the floor with much more force than necessary and hissed because the sudden movement sent flaring pain through his hand.

"Want some help?" the younger man asked politely, hiding his amusement at Jim's stubbornness. He was surprised to see how patient the older man had been trying to eat alone---he would have never guessed it.

Throwing a dark look at his younger friend, he grumbled, "I'm not hungry anymore!" In spite of his words, his stomach growled loudly, causing him to blush a bright red.

Blair giggled, raising an eyebrow. "You absolutely sure, man?"

Grumbling, the cop refused to answer, seeming to find the kitchen wall suddenly very interesting.

Sandburg sighed, slowly losing his patience. "Come on, Jim. Don't be such a baby. On second thought, maybe you should be that. Then I can help you without you bitching." Grabbing Jim's plate, he put it in the kitchen sink and walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

 

* * * * *

"Blair?"

The man in question tried to ignore the soft whimper from outside the door. It was hard not to jump immediately up from his bed and storm outside at the pitiful sound. After all, he was responsible for the older man's injury and pain, and that knowledge increased the misery floating through him.

"Blair?"

"Problems, big guy?"

"Could you do me a small favor?"

"Haven't I already? By leaving you alone?" replied Blair, hoping to sound uninterested. Which wasn't easy, considering the fact that he wanted to share every second with this grumpy Sentinel---especially when said Sentinel wasn't in pain. Why the hell did he have to fall in love with this stubborn, mega-alpha, ex-army, grouchy Sentinel! A deep sigh came from the kitchen, fueling Blair's guilt and his longing to touch that magnificent, sculptured body, which would make Michelangelo jealous.

"Blair, please!"

The heartfelt cry tore at his mind, and he just couldn't bear it any longer. He left his room and found his partner between the kitchen and the bathroom. "How can I help you, Jim?" he asked gently.

"Uh... could you... maybe... openthebathroomdoorplease," Jim mumbled, embarrassed.

"What? I didn't understand you." Frowning, Blair looked at his partner.

"Would you please be so kind and open the *damn* bathroom door!" Jim barked at his roommate, then turned his eyes away to avoid the look on the other man's face--- unable to bear the distressed look on Blair's face.

Blair glanced at the big man, shrugging, "Sure, Jim." Opening the door, he added, "Do you need further help with... uhm... you know?"

"NO!" Shouting, he shut the door behind him with his left foot.

"My pleasure," Blair said to the closed door and grinned, knowing that he had to open the door again in just a few minutes to let the other man out.

On the other hand, maybe it wasn't so bad after all, having a hurting Sentinel at home. There might be a chance to finally show his best friend how he really felt about him. The plan was already forming in his mind...

 

* * * * *

Even though his wounds were healing, the Sentinel's mood darkened with every minute that he couldn't do anything by himself. He couldn't do the simplest thing without Blair's help, who had taken a few sick days to be by Jim's side. Now, the younger man was driving him crazy with his mother-hen attitude---not that he didn't need it and didn't like to be near Sandburg as much as possible. The detective just preferred a different kind of caretaking from his friend, preferable involving his hard, healthy body.

In fact, he was more than grateful that his partner helped him through the small and big hurdles of the day, like eating, dressing, turning the page of a book and so on. He just hated to be dependent on someone else.

Damn, he wasn't even able to brush his teeth alone. Blair would stand behind him, the anthropologist's chest tightly pressed against Jim's back. He felt the warmth radiating from the younger man's body, could feel every single hair of the anthropologist's chest, the small nubs of Blair's nipples were driving him crazy, even through the fabric of their clothes. Reaching with his arm around, Blair brushed Jim's teeth with the neatness of a dentist. The cop just wanted to faint.

Still, he hadn't been able to ask his friend to help him with a much needed shower. That was simply too embarrassing! Yet, after two days without washing properly, he reeked badly. He was under the impression he smelled like a skunk!

Facing the bitter truth, Jim had no other choice but to ask for Blair's assistance. He was just about to ask when his pestering better half raised his head and prompted enthusiastically, "How can I help you?"

He was about to lift his hands to rub over his face when he realized that he couldn't. Damn bandages! "Sandburg... just do me one favor... SHOOT ME, *NOW*!"

"Pardon me?"

"Since a shower is out of the question, I need to take a bath. Would you fill the tube? Please?"

"Oh, yes! Finally!"

Jim gaped at his partner. "What did you just say, Sandburg?"

Blushing, Blair replied, "Uh... er... I've just been wondering how long you could go without a shower... but... never mind." With that, he took off towards the bathroom, leaving a stunned Sentinel behind.

A few minutes later, Jim lay more or less relaxed in the tube. But what now?!? How was he going to wash himself? Maybe, if he soaked long enough the dirt would melt away.

//It finally happened. I've lost my mind,// he concluded. He could probably ask Sandburg, his mind supplied. //No!//

That was out of the question! The thought of Blair touching him in such an intimate way aroused him immensely. Jim groaned. What an image! Those long, gentle fingers stroking over his chest, circling his nipples. That beautiful, pouty mouth kissing him breathless... //whoa, Ellison, keep your dirty mind out of the gutter or you'll never survive the sick leave//. However, those wonderful, blue eyes gazing up at him, wild curls framing his delicate face... A moan escaped his throat... when that face came closer and closer...

"You growled, Your Highness? How may your worthless servant help you?" Lost deep in his fantasy, Jim hadn't realized that Blair had entered the tiny steamed room.

Startled, Jim slipped under the waterline and almost drowned. Coughing, he bellowed, "Are you out of your mind, Sandburg? What do you thinking you're doing in here?"

"Washing your back?" Blair responded, innocently.

"But..."

"Yes? You wanted to say?"

"Look..."

"Look what? Jim, this is stupid. You need my help here! Are you gonna deny that?"

"Okay, just do what you have to do." Jim sighed, resignation clearly written on his face, and he was unable to look at his friend. His body tensed, unsuccessfully trying to hold onto the edge of the tube. Damn bandages!

Happily, Blair stripped off his oversized, plaid shirt and grabbed the sponge, starting to bathe his bigger friend. Beginning with Jim's face, Blair carefully eased the sponge down the older man's back and chest, making sure his eagerness did not cause Jim any discomfort.

The smooth circular rubbing of the slightly rough sponge relaxed Jim against his will. Moaning, he closed his eyes, focusing on the soft strokes and on the musky scent of his Guide. The gentle brushes of the sponge over his nipples made them grow hard, calming him further, and he didn't realize that his arousal was steadily increasing.

The rough fabric wandered down his body, over his hard, muscled stomach, teasingly dipping into his navel, finally reaching the sensitive area of his groin. However, the Guide ignored the delicate region, beginning to rub over Jim's powerful legs and feet. Whimpering, the big man felt his cock stir and harden rapidly. Arching upwards, the head of his 'little' member poked into the air, trying to get the Guide's attention.

"Oh, boy! What have we here? Seems like 'the little prince' is awake."

Jim felt himself blush, yet, couldn't find a way to express himself. He wondered how the hell it was possible to blush so deeply when all of the blood was concentrated in a certain lower area of his body. Still, he didn't have much time to think about his condition because all of a sudden he felt a warm wetness engulfing his large cock, massaging his tender skin. At the very same moment, he felt a sneaky hand fondling and lightly squeezing his balls, while the other one lifted his hips out of the water. Under such demanding treatment, it didn't take long for him to come in hot spurts.

Jerking his eyes open, Jim stared at his friend---lover?---aghast. Blair just grinned back at him, looking like a drowned poodle. Drying his face, Blair leaned forward and kissed Jim gently on the mouth. "Anything else I can help you with, *big* guy?" His eyes twinkled with desire.

"I...," Jim squeaked. After clearing his throat, he tried again, "I want y... I need... to get out of this tub." He finally managed.

With the help of his partner, he stepped out of the cooling water. Once outside, he grabbed the younger man, pressing him close to his body. "You sneaky little imp... you *planned* this, didn't you?"

Before Blair could reply, not that Jim had required an answer, he was kissing the man of his desires hard. Demanding entrance at the lovely mouth, which Blair immediately provided, their tongues dueled, battling for dominance as they stroked against each other. Blair tasted so good... spicy... herbal... just Blair.

Breaking the kiss after some time, Jim growled at his mate, "You wanted it---you got it, *all* of me. Now you're *mine*! There's no going back."

Blair just smiled. "No, man! *You* belong to *me*!"

The Sentinel grinned, "Can't wait to get my hands on you." Looking down at his bandaged limbs, he sighed, "Just another week, and then your ass is mine." The lust clearly in his eyes.

Sucking on the taller man's nipple, Blair teased, "Wonder what we can do til then? How does 'my hands on you' sound?"

The End.


End file.
